This is about my life in a fostering family of several young people in Wales today.
There are also all the other people in this house, my own growing up too quickly children who seem to be here less every week, and of course the student, the mistress of all we owe money on. There are three green goddesses (big green 1950's fire pumps): Gloria, Isabelle and the belle.
That's not mentioning other vehicles and items of plant, all sorts in fact.

So of course, just when things are going well life deals cards from the bottom of the pack.

Out of the blue the purchasor has phoned to say the chain has broken. We allredy knew this but it looks like this is a bigger hitch than we were first told. His house is going back for sale and I suppose ours must too. Or will it, I feel like saying stuff it and getting on with working on the house here.

He still wants the house mind. Then again I want a Jaguar....

But unless I have money I cannot have, and without money neither can he.

Monday, 29 September 2008

One of the nice things about an old house is that it will usually have a bit of history if you go looking for it.

Having safely got the annual MOT for the car out of the way, on a whim she and I went off heading for the county records office.

Researching the new house was the objective though quickly I decided that "new" is not the word. We had spent a few years researching local houses so we knew a few shortcuts, we had placed Penole in history in 1750 and found it on the original OS map of 1809. But I was quite blown away to find a reference to our new house dated 1625 and named on the OS map of 1809. Thats damn old even for round here!!

This refers to the site rather than the house though. It would be incredibly rare for a house locally to be built in stone before about 1800. That said it has the most incredible blocked off inglenook fireplace which is screaming to be restored

Interesting though the house is older than the village which only came into being with the arrival of the railway and it's brief history of having a station.

My wanderings round the site have convinced me this was once a water mill but something didn't quite add up. Now I have found the 1909 map that makes reference to a saw pit so maybe we are talking a wood mill.

A saw pit is an interesting feature, basically a hole in the floor with two people on a big two person saw. This has found it's way into everyday English, the poor sod in the pit being showered with shavings would be the underdog. Whilst his companion breathing fresh air would be the top dog. The "dog" being the frame on which the tree would be resting.

Of course management has her own take on this, with her hobby in the trees, according to her the underdog would have the easier job as they would be able to use their weight to pull the saw down whilst the top dog actually has to use muscle to pull the saw upwards.

Sunday, 28 September 2008

Yet again I am indulging in luxury, writing in bed still with a wonderful lovely lady of whom one could never be bored, well not and live anyway.

Today she assures me I desperately want to go to the Sunday market. The children are displaying considerably more enthusiasm than they did for log choping and I am taking consolation that whilst I remove my collection of aching joints and painfull muscles to the sunday market they are not being required to lift a chainsaw or wield an axe.

Perfecto, my step son, has with lift in prospect emerged from the woodwork with the same speed that he disappeared into it when it became apparent there was hard physical work to be done yesterday.

Of course this is just the morning, the afternoon has yet to be planned or rather I have yet to be told what I want to do.

Saturday, 27 September 2008

No one would ever describe my beloved, the mistress of all we owe money on as a tyrannical slave driver. No that would be quite suicidal..

But, every so often the command comes to jump and the only query can ever be how high.

So, out of bed she bounded this morning in action mode. Firewood cutting was announced to an audience who did not quite burst into excited cheering.

We nearly avoided it, the chain saw would not start but unfortunately I quickly discovered a blocked air filter, thinking about it maybe leaving it for two years without cleaning it might be stretching things a little.

So the morning was whiled away with the chainsaw, well some of it was anyway. The rest was spent axeing with my trusty Elwell. the kids were delegated to barrowing whilst she undertook the skilled job of constructing the stack.

Lunch time would have offered a brief respite had she not remembered that we need to swap wheels around on the Iveco. So equipped with various jacks, stands and my big socket set, the girls and I set to. Branwen was away last week on a geography field trip which in turn meant outdoor kit sourced form an MOD dealer. She has taken the stuff off since, I am sure she has, just maybe I never saw her then.

But anyway my "army" and I set too. Trouble with the Turbo Daily is it has such amazing lock it wears the tyres out in an odd way. The only way to stop it being to swap tyres round the various wheels periodically.

The IVECO is not as big as a Green Goddess, but those wheels are a lot heavier than a mini and the wheel nuts need to be on the tighter side of tight.

So anyway much sweating and profanity and we had the job done.

Time for rest then, errr not. having rushed us through lunch the management announced our newly devised wood shed was not quite full enough so we could cut more wood.

Unfortunately the chain saw started fine and of course a clear air filter means it runs for longer between refills of two stroke. An impressive mountain of wood could mean only one thing. I had to get the axe out and split it all so the kids could barrow it and she could stack it to her satisfaction.

Still every day must end and here I sit with a cold orange juice, there being no beer in the fridge.

Worn out giving so many orders, management has retired to the bath. I would get in the shower but don't think I have enough strength left to stand up against the jets of water.

But all is not lost. With the strategic wine stocks worryingly low she has announced I can go shopping to France soon. So long of course as she can come with me and chose the bathroom suite she has decided I want to fit in our new house should this deal ever come off.

I am writing this whilst I am in bed with a beautiful woman, I had better add that this is management to avoid any recriminations later.

We are having a Saturday lie in, well we would be had not Deimund the cat decided he needed to come and announce to us that we love him and even though it is 7 am we really want to fuss him now.

Closely followed by Da man on the same mission.

But of course we did get coffee thanks to little D and Gwion so all is not that bad.

Yesterday night I took management out for a ruby and on our return we noted that whilst the inastate agent had not bothered to replace the "for sale" sign that blew away, every inastate agent and his brother has lots of stuff for sale, but he had put up a "sale agreed" sign so that everyone passing knew he was the local inastate agent who has sold something.

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Those who have known me a few years will know that nothing in my life is ever smooth and never goes as planned.

So of course today the phone tintinabulated and it was the inastate agent.

Life as far as I was concerned was going well, the solicitors were getting on with it and the sale going through.

Ahh yes, should have read the runes.

Aparently the person who is buying the house of the person who is buying our house has displayed a lax attitude to contracaption, they are full of arms and legs. Not just one set but two. So of course the deal is off but aparantly this is just a "glitch".

"Glitch", sounds a bit like an inter city hitting the buffers at 120 to me.....

But no it just means the house needs to go back on the market, they put it on this morning and have 3 viewings already.

However, this means our big plan to move over half term is off.

Here comes the prospect of the best Xmas ever. Never had so many boxes to open, shame they were not presents but we were trying to remember where in the mountain we packed the most vital and essential small items. I hope the chip shop will be open Xmas day....

That of course assumes that, as the year draws in, we can persuade solicitors to forgo a season of Xmas parties and socials to do a bit of work.

Still it has a positive, it's more likely we will be able to say we stayed here 15 years, nicer rounder figure than 14.

Of course with the deal in limbo we had best not watch the news from the states where birds seem to be coming home to roost by the flock.

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

Last Wednesday I set myself the task of filling in an application form.

With her off ripping trees apart I sat here with my writing blocked.

In a day I achieved precisely not much.

Today my nose was held to the grind stone and I got the job done.

It was not pleasant, nice or fun.

But it is done.

I am writing a bit raw because I gave it my all.

Poor old management was as stressed as me. She is off to talk to the tress tomorrow.

Last day we helped a carer who has had their child of 5 years taken away because of something she said in the heat of the moment and immediatly retracted. She was removed against her will and is being denied her familly, last heard of she had gone on the run and might be at serious risk of harm.

That links into my application, if I get this job I will be in a position where social workers whose judgement is flawed can be worked out of the system.

Sunday, 21 September 2008

Saturday, 20 September 2008

Ex social workers might not recognise me and management from our delinquent past.

I think we have had a period where we just got out heads down and got on with the job.

All has changed, it must be the prospect of being mortgage free and independant.

I have all these external bodies that treat me as an asset not a nuisance and she has her developing interest in forestry.

But anyway Daycastle has announced it is introducing a policing scheme where Foster carers are required to attend training, no matter how irrelevant, attend meetings, no matter how brain numbingly boring, and go down the pub, yes honestly they will give you marks for going down the pub, or risk being demoted.

Unfortunately, when we fed back our views about this, they in turn decided to respond in writing. I have spent a delightfull evening draughting a response, using such unwelcome phrases as regulation, legislation and of course Care Council.

Wednesday, 17 September 2008

Yup put me in a position where I have something important to write and I am stuck

I am trying to throw together a CV for a very important job with the Welsh Assembly, something so senior I would not normally even bother with the application pack but two very senior people approached me independently and suggested I should apply.

Massive ego boost but I cannot string two words together. I need management at home to help - don't tell her that mind.

Lots of children swarming over the house and much "this is my room"ing

A chance to look again at our proposals for the house and measure them against what is really there.

It is quite hard for them, my children have no recall of a morning where they did not wake with this house as home. We are known colectivly in the locality by the house name.

The girls were quiet. Taliesin was positively silent. There is no where to ride his motor bike drive his land rover or a green goddess.

Branwen, who we have always called wise old Branwen said:

"It does not really matter what we think dad, we will only be here for a few years and then we will be gone to university and work. Al that matters is that you and mummy like the place and will be happy here."

Then I have another inastate agent with another property we might here about soon, certainly the vendor has taken a break from chasing Kangaroos to give him a bell.

Then this morning by accident the management and I stumbled across another house.

It would really be camping out for us for a while if we went there, really basic with a capital "really". More like a rebuild he started half a dozen different projects on and finished none of them.

Would have to be bloody careful around social services too, make sure it's my own kids who are living in the caravan, then of course you would have the looked after kids complaining that they were not!!

But they say location is all the this is in the right location and might even be close to the right price.

Now I find this sort of thing both hard and a little bit exciting, Adrenaline junkie that I am.

Management cannot handle it at all. I am my usual serene easy to live with self, she is close to rabid.....

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

I have to go and buy a house, this is actually not so bad. I know what I want and what I want to pay.

We have had one house in mind for a while and the price is moving towards the area of right. So yesterday afternoon I put in a bid and sat back. Turns out the vendor has flown the country and moved back to Oz where her current address is a camper van. "A camper Van OZ". I can anticpate a problem sending her a letter....

So anyway much talking to ourselves, a quick drive round to look at a few others from over the garden wall and well I made an offer on another house. But this one has been on for over a year and the asking price reflects values when it went on.

I had the kind of conversation with the inastate agent they really hate. You know:

R: "I don't want a huge protracted negociation, you need to get the most money for your client but you don;t want them sat there for 5 years waiting to sell either."

A: "Quite"

So far so good.

R: "There's no point wasting each others time, it was on for 450 (Thousand) that means you thought it was worth 425 personally I think that was a bit strong too, and that was last year so since then the market has shifted, 350 would be realistic so if I offer 370 that would be top money"

R: "Really? When I phoned last week and said I had viewed the place they asked me if I was Mr H or Mr Sims. That would make errh 2"

A: "Yes but"

R: "So really when I said that 450 was a bit strong back in June when I viewed I was not too far out"

A: "well, perhaps it was."

R: "So I suppose your client needs to decide if they want to sell now or wait 4 or 5 years for the market to recover."

A: "They would accept 425."

R: "I bet they would, in the current market, if I was them I bite my hands off! I have offered 370 and that is all I will go to"

A "But the offer really has to start with 4 to be seriously considered"

R: "I am not a charitable grant giving body I can only offer what it's worth"

etc etc.

But this is the rub, things must be a bit desperate, I was chatting to my estate agent and explained the situation to him. How I cannot accept the other guys offer till I have somewhere to go, I cannot camp in December. So the estate agent who is selling for me has offered to see what he can negociate with the other estate agent who is selling to me.

About Me

This drivel is all copyright to me, an Ageing biker hippy living in west wales
I would of course be delighted if someone wanted to publish what they read one here but you have to ask first. Otherwise I might get angry and you would not like me when I am angry.